The Woman. Part 9

"Mornin' Betty. How'd things go with Mrs. Oldenberg? She satisfied with the papers?"

"Didn't even read them. Signed them right away."

"Fine. Though I always counsel against that."

She looked at her desk calendar.

"You've got lunch with Dean at noon. Then court at two and a meeting with those Exxon reps at three-thirty. Are they really going to tear down McAllen's Hardware?"

"Not if the town council and I can help it. Last thing we need is a gas station three blocks away from the Royal Bank of Canada. Those DeFuria files ready?"

"I just have to print out this last one."

"Well, bring 'em on in when you're done along with a cup of mud and we'll get to it. Thanks, Betty."

Betty had this sort of funny tic, this habit. Whenever she turned back to her computer from talking to him or somebody else, as she did now, she took a deep breath as though about to take an underwater plunge. Which had the effect of plumping out those more-than-sufficient b.r.e.a.s.t.s against whatever she was wearing.

He'd considered what those b.r.e.a.s.t.s would be like without without whatever she was wearing more than once. But he was a lawyer after all and she a paralegal and they both knew all about hara.s.sment suits and the workplace. He was pretty sure Betty had a crush on him. But still. whatever she was wearing more than once. But he was a lawyer after all and she a paralegal and they both knew all about hara.s.sment suits and the workplace. He was pretty sure Betty had a crush on him. But still.

Maybe someday he'd find reason to fire her. But gently. It would have to be something that would sit well with her. Maybe some big client would bitterly complain. And then what could a guy do? My G.o.d, sorry Betty, but you know these big-money boys. They always get their way. My G.o.d, sorry Betty, but you know these big-money boys. They always get their way.

She was pretty good at her job, though. Be a shame to lose her. But you never could tell.

Peg watched her cla.s.s do stretches on the field. The bleachers were hard on your b.u.t.t but it was better than being out there.

Mrs. Jennings' whistle shrilled. So loud that Dee Dee Hardcoff covered her ears. Peg hated that d.a.m.n whistle - all of them did. The girls filed in across the track. Her teacher wore the high school colors. Green shorts, white blouse. She had no b.r.e.a.s.t.s at all to speak of and short stocky legs and walked like a man. Peggy wondered if she was gay. She was married but that didn't mean a lot these days.

"Okay, eight laps, ladies."

There went the whistle again. The girls seemed to heave a collective sigh and started in to trot. Mrs. Jennings saw her sitting there and walked over.

"Peg? Not feeling well again today?"

Well obviously, she wanted to say. She didn't like the woman's tone of voice at all. It was just this bit shy of sarcastic, just this bit shy of accusatory. But teachers didn't have to give a s.h.i.t about their tone of voice, did they.

"No. Not too well."

"See your pa.s.s?"

She dug into her backpack for the note from the nurse's office. Handed it over.

The woman seemed to study it forever - as though looking for flaws. Could the b.i.t.c.h even read? Could the b.i.t.c.h even read? Did gym teachers have to pa.s.s basic English? She handed back the note and nodded and walked back to the field without a word.

Well that was nice, she thought, and f.u.c.k you very much.

Back behind the ticket booth Genevieve Raton was sharing Marlboros with Bill Fulmer. Fulmer taught shop. He was in his forties, married, with two kids, short and plump and balding. He knew his way around a lathe or circular saw and was without the slightest hint of the teacherly arrogance she saw in a lot of in the tenured staff here and Genevieve liked him a lot.

"So this is your spot, huh?" she said.

In the teachers' lounge she'd said she was dying for a smoke. But smoking had been banned from the lounge twenty years ago as with everywhere else in or around the school. Usually she just left her pack in the glove compartment and suffered in silence until the bell rang and the day was over. But today Bill had said, come with me. come with me.

The ticket booth was perfect. The back door was the entrance directly to the gym. n.o.body used it but the gym cla.s.ses. Once they were out on the field you could only be seen from the parking lot. And during the school day n.o.body used that either.

"Been sneaking back here on my breaks for years now," Fulmer said. "Smoke-free campus, my a.s.s. All you have to do is police your b.u.t.ts."

"You're a genius, Bill. I think we'll be running into one another more often from now on."

He smiled and nodded. "Always glad of the company, Miss Raton."

She glanced around the corner at the field. Saw Peggy Cleek sitting alone in the bleachers, her arms crossed over her lap, using her backpack for a pillow.

"You know Peggy Cleek, Bill? That girl over there?"

"Can't say I do. Why?"

"There's something going on with her. The last month or so she's changed. A lot."

"They do at that age, Genevieve. And fast."

"I know. But this is...you know how they're all dressing these days. The shorter the skirt the better, the skimpier and tighter the blouses and tees. Well, that's how she was too. Now it's all sweats and hoodies that are way too big for her. And don't think the other kids aren't noticing. They're giving her funny looks. She's a very pretty girl. She ought to be..."

"Flaunting it?"

"Yeah. Dammit. Flaunting it."

They laughed.

"Did you, at her age, Genevieve? Flaunt it?"

He wasn't coming on to her - he knew her better than that. He was teasing. She figured she could tease right back.

"I'd have made you pop your f.u.c.king zipper, William."

Belle knew the IGA like the back of her hand and so did Darlin' by now. She also knew that her daughter was bored to death with marketing and she had a window of about fifteen minutes before the whining started. She was too old to ride in the cart anymore and too young to leave on her own at home after Kindervale school - and Chris wouldn't hear of hiring a sitter. So she paused only briefly over the cuts of pork loin and bottom round and otherwise moved them along through the aisles as quickly as possible.

Between the Arm & Hammer laundry detergent and the Lava soap she saw Vickie Silverman headed her way, smiling, her two year old Bennie's legs jiggling out of the cart basket. She put on her own smile and reached for the Lava.

"Hi, Belle. Hi, Darlin'. And how are you two today?"

Vicki was a cheek-pincher. Darlin' was well aware of that and kept her distance.

"We're fine, Vic. And you?"

"All's well here. We measured Bennie this morning and he's grown another half inch! How about that. What do you think? Barbeque again soon?"

"I don't see why not. Weather's been perfect for it, hasn't it?"

"Your place this time, maybe?"

Her voice said finally? Good G.o.d, finally? Good G.o.d, she thought. she thought. That's all I need. That's all I need. And aren't you being a little forward volunteering me, Vicki? Even if we haven't had guests over for barbecue in G.o.d knows how many years? And aren't you being a little forward volunteering me, Vicki? Even if we haven't had guests over for barbecue in G.o.d knows how many years?

"Oh, I don't know, the place is just such a darn mess."

"With little ones around, how can it ever not not be?" be?"

"You're right about that. But the big ones don't help much either. I've got to run, Vic. See you soon, okay?"

"Of course. See you soon."

They moved their separate ways up and down the aisle.

Guests, she thought. Children. Running all over the place. The barn. The fruit cellar. That'll be the day.

He handed Betty his notes out of the briefcase. He used his good hand.

"Okay," he said. "Here are the basics of our agreement. All the figures and dates of payment spelled out for you. Standard purchase agreement form. When you're finished, send 'em over to Dean for signature along with the initial check. And send him a case of Dewar's while you're at it."

Betty nodded but then just stood there a moment in front of his desk.

"Mr. Cleek? May I say something?"

"Of course, Betty. What is it?"

He wondered if she knew how cute she looked when her brow got all furrowed like that.

"It's none of my business, really. But in this economy, are you sure you aren't..."

"Overextending?"

He'd considered it. If some downturn in his stocks. .h.i.t him big time or if somebody in his family got seriously ill he could be in a bit of trouble here. It was possible. Betty probably knew his finances better than Belle did, so he could understand her concern. But Dean's asking price was ridiculously low.

Well, it had gotten gotten ridiculously low after their little chat over lunch today. ridiculously low after their little chat over lunch today.

"I'm sure, Betty. Don't you worry. That's a nice perfume by the way. New, is it?"

She was cute when she blushed too.

"You like it?"

"It's very nice."

"Thanks!"

It was then that she finally noticed the bandage. h.e.l.l it was a big bandage. She reached out for his hand.

"What in the lord's name did you do to yourself, Mr. Cleek?"

Her hands were very soft and smooth. Then she seemed to realize she'd committed a tiny little indiscretion here. She released him.

He held up his finger as though inspecting it.

"Got too close to a pretty-smelling lady and she just..."

He snapped his teeth together. Chomp. Chomp.

Betty laughed, shook her head at him as if to say, you big kidder, you you big kidder, you and turned to walk away. and turned to walk away.

Hide in plain sight, his father used to say.

Well, some things, anyway.

FOURTEEN.

There were times Belle thought her daughter acted like a little puppy and this was one of them, Darlin' standing right beside her hip, impatient as a puppy at feeding time while she whipped the cookie batter. She turned off the mixer and tilted back the beaters and then decided to tease her.

She unlocked the one of the beaters and tapped it on the bowl. Then ran a finger along one side. Tasted it. Mmmmmm Mmmmmm, she said.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Gimme some!"

"Now is that a nice way to ask?"

"Please, momma? I love you!"

"That's much better."

She leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the beater. Darlin' sat down and went to work.

"Can we make the little men?"

She pulled a cookie cutter out of the drawer. An elephant.